The Cure
by holmesfreak1412
Summary: She's the cure… The cure that makes it worse
1. Kudo Shinichi is frankly

**Warning: Some sensitivities may be offended in this fiction. Please read with an open mind.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Detective Conan Franchise. Rights for the characters and the plot that connected them in the first place all belong to Aoyama Gosho. This story, however is mine. And so are the cameo original characters that will appear in here.**

**The Idea of the APAH capsule (and everything else you can notice) belongs to FS and her awesome fanfics "Ghost at Twilight" and "Encounter in Venice". But don't expect we share the same concept of the drug— particularly in its proposed side effects. I will make it clear however that this is not in any way an interpretation of her fic. A homage would have been more accurate, albeit that this is not really of the same universe as to what her fanfics are currently revolving. **

...

Title: The Cure

Author: holmesfreak1412

Fandom: Detective Conan/Case Closed

Pairing: Kudo Shinichi & Miyano Shiho

Genre: Angst, Drama

Rating: T (for minor sexual imagery)

Language: English

Summary: She's the cure… The cure that makes it worse

Author's Note: It's nice to be back! I have been quite busy in the past few months so I was unable to update my crackfic "The Ghost of an Intangible Love". But I will be deeply sorry to tell you that I will discontinue it as that had been a regretful failure. Meanwhile, I had embarked in this newest project: an angst Shinichi-Shiho that I guess none of you have read before. I have seven other oneshots finished and I promise I will post it as soon as I can. For now, I present to you this challenge fic, dared to me by my "little sister" (actually she's a cousin) who seemed to favor angst stories more than humorous ones.

…

**The Cure**

**Date started: November 10, 2012**

**Date completed: November 12, 2012**

**Part 1**

…

**a.**

**Kudo Shinichi **is frankly sick of it all—for what are the traffic police for if they never do something to this time-consuming traffic—, that stupid radio program advertising cheap skin treatments that are nothing but idle promises, the rush hour drive that has long been a gauntlet of inexorable annoyance—bad smell, screaming breaks, even inefficient designs. All of which grated on his nerves. More than usual. More than it used to.

_What is wrong with me?_, he thinks. On the front passenger seat sits all of his unfinished paperwork—all to be done tonight without fail, all because he has been too distracted all this time to even entertain a rational thought. To him, everything seems like Greek, each letter floating before his eyes in a huge unbearable blob of incomprehensibility. The work he used to so dearly love, so deeply ambitioned, just can no longer give him the pleasure he once marveled at and lived for. It is as if everything deserted him; his interests to just about everything and his sense of obligation to all he should cultivate. And Shinichi knows it is getting more noticeable by the minute. They are looking at him with pity, as if they are aware of what his whole soul is dwelling about, which he insists to himself they are not . He had been very careful; so as to protect _her_ and he thinks nothing that had once transpired between them could have gotten beyond the walls of the cottage in Hiroyuki Street. She wouldn't talk, he knows. Neither would he. And trees would not have tales to tell without something to hear from their mouths. No one could have known.

But Ran must have, he concedes glumly. Or else, why does she look like that whenever he complains about his heavy work load when in the past she was the one yammering about the unfairness of it. Wouldn't she agree with him for once? That he indeed needs a day off? But then again, a day off will not do him much good either. Not without….. No! No! Not again. Ran. Yes Ran. She is busy with her new business and she is always out somewhere, no longer the obliging wife waiting by the doorstep for his coming for the past two years. To him, she is now a stranger, someone he shouldn't—couldn't care a damn about. Just like his work. Just like everything in this crap he calls his life.

Except her.

She started it—no, she's the cure, the cure that makes it worse. Pulling up on the driveway of his house, with the sun setting behind him—always her favorite time of the day, he yearns for a time when he can curl up on her bed someday and she can take everything with a down of the capsule and the touch of her hand….

Stop. Stop. STOP, he forces himself. She started it. He thought he had ended it already and yet true enough, old lovers do come back to haunt, a ghost of the past that he couldn't—doesn't want to forget. Sliding from his seat with the stack of folders stucked in one encircled arm, he tries unsuccessfully to block the image of her—so beautiful in the aquamarine nightdress, straddling him, smelling of the strawberry scent he loves so much and craves for, her soprano voice intoxicating him, her touch giving him the ecstasy he never had in three years of strained marriage with the one he thought he loved. Because he just couldn't. He needs _her. _So much that the discrepancies of two years, two months, two weeks, two days, two hours is indiscernible to him. How long has it been since? Two years? Two months? Two weeks? Yes two weeks. Only two weeks. And yet it feels like eternity.

Geez, he grumbles in frustration. It isn't even dark yet.

Nighttime has always been their rendezvous after all, a time where they can be safely be hidden from the world in their forbidden romance, as is similar to every philanderer he used to abhor as they mistake pleasure for love. Or maybe that was just him. Hell, it was just him. His selfishness hurts Ran. His insensitivity wounded Shiho. His withdrawal kills him every second.

But _she _started it—no, of course not. It is ridiculous to blame her. Because he can't attribute any negligence in her part. She had warned him. He had disregarded it, turning a deaf ear to what she said in precaution, wanting only above all for him to be allowed to kiss her already. He had wanted to prove her wrong. But she was right. He was no better than any jerk he despised. He failed to be the person he deemed to deserve her.

Grunting, he puts his load on the cabinet top and calls for an absent wife that is not likely to greet him back when she is off to somewhere confiding to a girlfriend about how she thinks her husband is having an affair. How wrong can she be? It should be in past tense, he thinks with resolve. Like everything he used to have with Shiho. Like everything that used to be his life. Nothing more than just a distant, pleasant memory he always treads on but never can touch. Again.

He stares ruefully at his monstrous homework. He really should get a day off. A vacation in the Carribean perhaps, with her…. No, Stop, Stop, STOP. Maybe work can distract him long enough…. or what if it would not? Geez, his job sucks big deal.

Now.

b.

But one year ago, everything had been different. While not the heaven any connoisseur of crime dreams of, his job suited him just fine. His career as a police detective, soon-to-be-promoted Inspector was as eventful as Sherlock Holmes would wish. His friends and family were safe and sound, the threat of the Organization eradicated and finally, buried into the pit where justice was master. And Ran was well…. a good wife., at least better than anyone else's. He was, all these things considered, contented.

That was but an illusion.

For in life, one could never be contented. Maybe it was not exactly human nature, like bacon and egg for breakfast isn't an imagined inevitability we took in excuse as human nature. But it is what drives us to live, the fantasy that we can be someday be satisfied, so that forever we will work to try to fulfill ourselves. There is always something missing. Or someone. It might be a friend, a partner or even a lover. In his case, it had been a full package. But he didn't know that yet.

After taking the antidote and giving him directions on how to prepare the formula for their post antidote migraine painkiller, Miyano Shiho, formerly Haibara Ai, his partner, his bestfriend and unknowingly, in retrospect now, his lover just took off without a word. For five years she was never there, unreachable as the stars in the night sky. And just as deluding. But he never did forget her. and that had been a mistake.

For one night in this year, they met again. And there was no turning back.

Scarcely had he vented on Ran his pent-up frustrations and this was coincidentally one of those times. Over coffee they had argued—again—; she with the remonstrance and accusations about his duty as a husband being neglected, all because he has cases, cases and cases in his head. Hell, she even got around in implying that he was at fault as to their worrisome inability to conceive a child. He spat out his bitterness as to how she could just never understand. Unlike _her_, and that fleeting thought made him angrier still. Why wasn't she here when he needed her most? He had stormed out of the house that morning, left his wife in near tears and immersed to as much absorption as possible. By the end of the day, he still had not called her. accursed pride told him not to do it any sooner. Let her realize! Cases were his nature, not a folly—why couldn't she understand that? Why couldn't she be just like…. And so in his apprehension as more thoughts of that woman came forth and regrets started pouring in, Shinichi decided he could use a drink, if only to momentarily calm his grated nerves and enter a world a few shots of alcohol was reputed to conjure. In a bar far, far away from Beika where no one was likely to recognize him. Or maybe to get closer to having some intimacy with some girl willing for one-night-stand arrangements, one who would never haunt him back in his philandering antics long enough for anyone else to hear it. Not Mouri Kogoro. Not Sonoko. And ye Gods, not Ran.

But then he decided against that. He had a degree a respect for Ran not to give himself with some nameless woman when she believed he was hers and hers alone.

But that was wrong. He was not hers and hers alone. And any respect for her would be nothing if faced with the real ordeal. That was, when not exactly a nameless girl, would be a girl that he didn't know how to address now that it was five years since they had seen each other.

Out from work at nine, he went to the imperative. He called his friend Idesaki Ryoma, definitely the logical choice to be drinking pals, a disbarred attorney who far from the careless, drunkard he impressed everyone to be, was actually a first-rate agent for Shinichi. In other words, his one-man Baker Street Irregular, his very own Wiggins, who had been his partner and friend when times got rough and he just missed having one confidante whose judgment he could trust. But then he still missed her and nobody could replace her.

He only wishes now, that someone did. If only Ran…

Idesaki took him into a jazz joint; somber enough as if he sensed that the last thing Shinichi needed right now was mingling in a noisy bar with temptation of all sorts around. In here, contemporary jazz was being played and even despite being situated in the less fashionable streets of Haido City, was surprisingly frequented by respectable-enough-looking people, all of whom wearing casual tee shirts that made his suit-and-tie out of place. Idesaki greeted each patron by first name and introduced him just as easily that Shinichi quickly deduced he must have been a regular here. With tacit nods, he was welcomed and he observed that these people seemed to be here for the music's sake which was just what he preferred. Although not a music lover himself, he was glad to be with such zealous people. He could not wish for anyplace better. And the acoustic band performing was quite good. They ordered their drinks—gin martini—and it reminded him of _the_ ordeal. But nothing should distract him, he said to himself. He acknowledged his gratitude to Idesaki's unerring foresight who nonchalantly shrugged him off.

"Oh it's nothing." He said. They were seated on the side of the booth that was nearest to the stage and Shinichi wondered whether there was anything deliberate with that. Meanwhile, Idesaki smoked incessantly and drummed his fingers with occasional impatient glances to the stage. Shinichi figured it was no wonder after all. Idesaki Ryoma was definitely waiting for something.

Noticing the detective's look, Idesaki grinned. "I'm waiting for the late-night gig." he said

Shinichi fractionally raised an inquiring brow. "Why? What's special with it?" He couldn't help but ask.

There was no hesitation as the lawyer answered: "I have a crush with the lead vocals. Quite a sight really." Then he frowned and looked him over curiously. "So what brings you here with me for the night? Problems with Ran-san?"

Of course, he lied. Not yet. He couldn't bring to tell any other soul about his doubt about his current matrimony. Even Idesaki. He told him some cock-and-bull story about a baffling case and even gave him an assignment —which Idesaki joked that would not be free, as if he ever was a pain-in–the-ass with his rates—if only to assuage whatever doubts that forming in the former lawyer's head. His friend, knowing better than to decline, acquiesced and for the rest of the hour waiting for this late-night gig, he managed to enjoy silence. And relax. Shinichi felt for the first time that for once, he was free.

And that was when he heard her voice.

(TBC)


	2. Hearing her voice

Title: The Cure

Author: holmesfreak1412

Fandom: Detective Conan/Case Closed

Pairing: Kudo Shinichi & Miyano Shiho

Genre: Angst, Drama

Rating: T (for minor sexual imagery)

Language: English

Summary: She's the cure… The cure that makes it worse

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Detective Conan Franchise. Rights for the characters and the plot that connected them in the first place all belong to Aoyama Gosho. This story, however is mine. And so are the cameo original characters that will appear in here.

The Idea of the APAH capsule belongs to FS and her awesome fanfics "Ghost at Twilight" and "Encounter in Venice". I highly recommend those if you want to come out changed. In my case, it helped me become a more introspective writer.

Author's Note: This is the second part now. I believe I heard comments about the first one turning out quite well despite my doubts that it would not. I daresay I really had improved.

And no, I don't think I am upgrading this to Rated M.

…

…

**The Cure**

**Part 2**

…

**a.**

**Hearing her voice **after five agonizing years did wonders. On the first note of the keyboardist's keys, he had turned sharply, almost in primitive instinct and saw _her, _onstage, hands poised around the mic, her perfect angelic features framed by a slightly longer from before bobbing naturally-wavy reddish-brown hair, as she started to sing. Her voice drowned his senses, like a sea of well-being cascading around his whole soul , a great expanse of numbness overwhelming his body from limb to bone, from head to toe. Her soprano voice, so pleasant that he forgot that that same voice once mocked him, once broke into stammering as her tears fell in grief. The same voice reprimanded him of his mindless actions, given him choices when he thought there was none, consoled him with her uncanny random stimulations, impeccable in her timing always, shocking him often with the implications of her words.

That same voice didn't as much as bade him goodbye years ago.

But alas, it was as if she was altogether a different person. Standing before him, another stranger and yet very familiar. Even her dress code was different. Far from the slightly tomboyish-gothic style Haibara Ai favored before, this person was very feminine. Sexy even. In fact, Shinichi wouldn't have recognized her, even think she was just some other doppelganger who seemed to swarm around whenever he got one glass too many in his system had their eyes never met. Or for that matter, had they had been seated farther from the marvelous post Idesaki had, with considerable foresight reserved for themselves. Her eyes flashed when they fell on him and crossed his. She didn't seem fazed however and just gave him a warm smile before directing her gaze at some other space, all the while not losing a beat in her music. Her voice blinded him completely of his surroundings. Everything was dark, only two of them in a world of wilderness, meters apart, like binary stars that were separated only by the smallest possible distance.

And that had been a fitting simile. For binary stars are never close after all. They are in fact million of light years away. Beautiful yes. And deluding. Just like her.

The patrons watched her in awed silence and Shinichi realized that what everyone went here for was actually _her_. Not that he blamed them. He was sure that he would go here as much as he could had he been one of these people, who never knew Haibara Ai, queen of all sarcastic repartee or Miyano Shiho the biochemist; only knew her by whatever name she chose to go, should she have decided to stay incognito. And it was not just because he used to know her. All things considered, she was good. The only person he had to blame was himself alone, for never deducing that she could actually sing like that.

Beside him, Idesaki was trying his might to stifle a laugh, apparently both out of respect for Shinichi and to his crush that was "quite a sight"—an understatement, the lawyer must have realized considering how mind-blown-looking ace detective Kudo Shinichi was. "Oi Kudo." he joked in a voice beneath a whisper. But even the low key decibels failed to hide the ringing amusement in his tone, now that they seemed to share a crush. "Don't you have a wife in Beika or something?"

He must have expected Shinichi to flinch, insisting that his fixation was merely a matter of aesthetics. But the detective only looked ahead, gaze unwavering. "I know her." he said, sounding awfully breathless. "I know her."

He could see that Idesaki was unimpressed. Apparently, he was used to this. Every man who saw Shiho must have always bragged that they once had a one-night-stand with her. And that she was good. All of them, perverts. Most of them, poor ignoramus.

"Really?" He half-snorted. Shinichi picked up the skepticism in his friend's voice, guessing exactly where this was based from. That he was just one of those braggarts who found it worthwhile to boast about their encounters in bed, even if that was mere idle. They, who knew better that it was one of the things that was hard to prove. "You really know her?..."

Shinichi hoped he wouldn't ask him her name for confirmation of their acquiantance. The old trick those people his friend suspecting that he was one of had learned to dodge over time, saying they don't remember because it was so dark blah blah blah. He had no way of knowing if this was really _her_. Much less how she was being addressed five years after Haibara Ai took her antidote. Feigning short-term amnesia wouldn't work here either. He had no idea. None at all. He hoped Idesaki wouldn't ask.

Fortunately, he didn't. "...Shiho?"

So, he mused. She had so far moved on not to renounce her real name. He felt his insides well in insecurity. He, who never got the chance to even say goodbye in person, just felt betrayed when others who didn't as much know who she really was, were allowed to call her by name, see her everyday, listen to her sing. While he, only listened to her answering machine that fateful night. And never got a chance to in the following years. Until now. And here he was, thinking they were supposed to be bestfriends.

"You seemed baffled.." Idesaki remarked mockingly, downing another shot as the song ended. Onstage, she curtseyed gracefully and it almost horrified Shinichi to the point that he could swear he was dreaming. But she had nodded at him. She had acknowledged him. That was enough, he guessed.

Idesaki waving at his sightline brought him back to Earth. " Well, I was just surprised you know her name that's all." he said, faking a nonchalant shrug. The lawyer was staring at him with scrutiny. He gulped another martini, feeling the cosmopolitan burn in his throat. "We were friends back when I was still a h-... school detective. But I guess, I shouldn't have been surprised of you knowing her real name. You seem like a fanboy huh. I suppose everyone here knows her."

Idesaki smirked, one which the detective could recognize anywhere to be "smug". "Only a handful know of her real name. She uses a different one onstage." That surprised Shinichi. "But I have resources. And I am sort of courting... her you know."

Shinichi's heart skipped a beat.

"I have the biggest crush on her. For a while." Idesaki went on, looking disdainful of himself. He probably thought he sounded like some pathetic lovesick teenager. "But well, before you immerse yourself too much, I give you one word of friendly advice. Know her or not, she's untouchable."

"What? She's married or something?" There was a tinge of worry in the detective's voice. She couldn't have married without telling him! Because he really looked for her when he was about to get to.

"No. If that was it, things would be easier to accept." He leaned closer, almost a conspiratorial gesture when he resumed in a low voice. "Rumor has it, that she is actually you know... queer."

Homosexual.

Shinichi almost laughed. "Give me a break." Tomboyish Haibara Ai or not, that was definitely not the reason why she never returned Idesaki Ryoma's flirtatious antics. He was sure of it.

The lawyer-turned-hounddog grinned sheepishly, reading his mind. "How could she repel me like that when I'm God's gift to women?" he said amidst hearty laughter, with mock conceit. "But I have to admit this at least Kudo that she seemed to be returning your advances. You saw her smile right? Oh of course, that was purely recognition in her part. You're lovers before or something? Well, maybe you can go up there and congratulate her about the music or something."

Shinichi spun around, an agonizingly hopeful look in his face.

Idesaki sighed. "Oh geez."

She was talking with some band members at the end of the set when they approached her. The saxophonist, a mustachioed guy with dyed red hair saw them first. He greeted Idesaki jovially and gave Shinichi a polite nod.

"Hey man." Idesaki greeted back and elbowed the musician playfully, to all the world like kids in a playground. Others joined in and Shinichi realized that Idesaki must have been a familiar figure around the backstage given these casual way of greeting. Whatever big crush he had with this rumored homosexual vocalist, he sure was determined to take it up another notch. So far, it was implied that he was bearing no success in his ventures whatsoever. But nevertheless. Shinichi was uncomfortable with the idea. Thinking that all these time, Idesaki Ryoma who was his friend had been closer to _her_ than himself.

Idesaki made the introductions, all the while bickering with the other bandmates, the ensuing conversation filled with cordial laughter and elaborate pleasantry. Shinichi distractedly greeted them back, fixated as he was to her, who had stood apart, regarding them evenly.

Nostalgia hit him as he fixed his gaze on her. That calm outward demeanor of hers. How he missed that.

Idesaki pulled him by the elbow so roughly that he realized with awkwardness that he had been glued to the spot, absent from Earth so long that it became shamefully noticeable. The others were staring at him in wonder, probably surmising that Idesaki had just brought them another star-struck fool, one they must had a share of experiences given that they chose such an attractive woman for a vocalist. Her mocking smirk as well as the amused glint in her eyes proclaimed as much. And the way she seemed to be impassive of such behavior. As if she expected it, even though it was largely out-of-character for him to space out like that in wishful introspective reverie. Right then, he imagined she was making fun of his not-so-alert reflexes. He really should do a thing or two about it. It was getting more of a regularity, even more so than the post-antidote migraines he was continuously suffering from once ready-made APAH painkillers she had taught him to prepare was out of commission. It was getting very worrisome.

But those could wait. Because he hadjust realized that he also missed that smirk. And everything else in this woman. More and more, he was starting to see the Haibara Ai that he had known in her already.

Idesaki shoved him with a start towards her. He was ready for that and he managed to get on his balance quite gracefully. "This is Kudo Shinichi. He insists he knows you but I heard that song before." With a firm grip on both of his shoulder blades, the lawyer shook him. "And by the way, he was shocked to hear your name. So much for 'used to knowing you' tactics." He laughed heartily, like it was some kind of a funny joke. Shinichi spat out good-humoredly that he would get even with him someday. He was feeling embarrassed.

But that only made her smirk wider. "We know each other." she said and that silenced Idesaki up. Laughter faltering, he made an excuse and hurried for an exit, sensing that he was not gaining any points by humiliating a friend of his "big homosexual crush that is quite a sight" or even ranking his detective friend— whose lavish rewards feeds his spoiled lifestyle—into such poor animals who made it a trophy to be her acquaintance, albeit fake. Apparently, he had thought he could gain a stand on Shinichi by shoving him into what he thought was his own idle boast. Only to be shoved back by the hands of his own crush. Shinichi thought with satisfaction that he got his revenge after all.

She was scanning him from head to toe, in the pensive way a scientist studies a living specimen she had released in the wild, for him to learn the rigors of the national world on his own. He wondered what her assessment was, whether she was proud of how he fared in his liberty from what she could see in his suit-and-a-tie and the wedding band he was wearing in his finger for show. Because he was not. Proud that was. By giving him the freedom she thought that he deserved, she had unknowingly imprisoned him yet again, like Ariadne's thread leading Theseus' in a deeper labyrinth, inescapable, until the Cretan princess herself would come. "You haven't changed much." she remarked, wordlessly beckoning him towards the backstage's mini bar where no one was idling about. He slid onto a stool next to where she had placed her purse as she prepared them both their drinks. Herself was her own bartender, as it turned out. "But you haven't shaved for some time. Pretty stressed that you forgot your own toilet?" she noted, sitting beside him.

His hands flew to the two-day growth of bristles on his chin. "Now you're being the detective, aren't you?" He changed the subject with a shrug, not wanting to start off with his own woes. Maybe they would come to that later. "But then neither are you. I mean, you yourself have not changed much. But I was surprised by the attire." He gestured towards her beige dress, perfectly cut that he knew without being impertinent to be thorough in his observation that it was tailored to fit. "But I must admit I always thought that kind of fashion suits you. Like the Gothic Lolita."

Saying the words, he kicked himself. He sounded so out-of-character that he was almost horrified. ___What was happening to me?_

Even she, seemed surprised. But she didn't say anything, as if she knew it was something not really amicable to be dwelt upon in a reunion. An uncomfortable silence descended between them, neither making any comment as to his dismissive remark as to her attire or the reason for his vagueness, to his unconventional appearance that proclaimed his state of mind or his evasiveness. Shinichi could guess she was already considering whether he really had not changed after all.

Staring at her, he managed to croak up a subject. Albeit that it was nowhere as near as what he would have preferred in this conversation. Truth be told, he always imagined their meeting as anything but this strained. Maybe exchange a few greetings. Blame her playfully perhaps at her desertion. And finally, coax her to always, _always _keep in touch. He never did expect he would be this tongue-tied and that was for no reason at all. Surely, he was not one of those who swooned after her. After all to him, she was just Haibara Ai, who had the startling but not unwelcome timing to reappear in his life. Nothing more. He knew her even before she became the singer that she was posing as now. But then again, he never did _know _that she actually could sing that good and that she would choose to make a living out of it.. It made him wonder whether he really did know her after all. That epiphany gave him a sudden blast of headache somehow. So he fished discreetly for the APAH painkillers in his pockets—developed by this vocalist-slash-biochemist, prepared by his truly—, all the while telling her how she really didn't seem to change at all.

She laughed at that. He was seized by the sound. As musical as her own singing voice or the crescendo of a Stradivarius. When in the past the smallest of her smiles were only reserved for pet dogs, here she was chuckling at his most mundane statement. For a moment, he felt flattered and then he substantiate with mirth that he must have degraded so much that she already saw him as one to be tickled, a way to make him at least responsive to her curiosity as to his life and what was in it that was more imminent than his own cat-like cleanliness. Thinking that, he immediately felt guilty. Haibara Ai or Miyano Shiho, singer or biochemist, this woman was no manipulator.

"I guess I was old enough not to have grown." she said, smirking as she noticed his clenched fist that he set on the counter. For a fleeting second, Shinichi feared she would get the wrong message. But she seemed to guess what was between those fingers. But then again, he rationalized, she was suffering of the same regularity that preparing and taking these capsules was already a chore. He didn't take one this morning, he remembered with chagrin. "And young enough," she continued, with a double-edged note. "not to have aged."

Shinichi laughed. He missed that witticism too. "Indeed." He opened his fist and shoved the blue and white capsule on his mouth as he accepted the glass of water she, with her usual perceptive foresight, offered him. Feeling its numbness effects on the throbbing pain, he sighed with relief. He turned to her and flashed her a contented, grateful smile that he hoped she would appreciate. But it was nothing of the sort.

Because for a moment, he thought she looked very, very sad.

But she recovered quickly. And there was no doubt in Shinichi's mind that she still hadn't changed much after all.

What he didn't see at the time was that it would not be good for both of them.

(TBC)


	3. Her eyes had been

Title: The Cure

Author: holmesfreak1412

Fandom: Detective Conan/Case Closed

Pairing: Kudo Shinichi & Miyano Shiho

Genre: Angst, Drama

Rating: T (for minor sexual imagery)

Language: English

Summary: She's the cure… The cure that makes it worse

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Detective Conan Franchise. Rights for the characters and the plot that connected them in the first place all belong to Aoyama Gosho. This story, however is mine. And so are the cameo original characters that will appear in here.

The Idea of the APAH capsule and everything else belongs to FS and her awesome fanfics "Ghost at Twilight" and "Encounter in Venice". I highly recommend those if you want to come out changed. In my case, it helped me become a more introspective writer. It wouldn't hurt much if I say now that this is a homage of her works. While this is certainly not as good, I hope she (and you) will come to appreciate my efforts.

Author's Note: Hey guys, I thank you very much for the nice comments. But always keep in mind that I also want the best for Shiho, at least in the story where I have control over things. I am not meaning to humiliate her or anything here however. As this is set mostly in Kudo's point of view, I guess I won't have any chance.

And no, I don't think I am upgrading this to Rated M.

…

…

**The Cure**

**Part 3**

…

**a.**

**Her eyes had been **fixed intently to where the capsules had just been a few seconds ago, brows furrowed in deep thought as she stared at his laid-out palms, like the very idea that he still depended in her painkillers was a worrisome thought. For a moment, Shinichi fretted she had long since gotten rid of the constant migraines with some definitive cure and the fact that she might have neglected to call him to end this suffering, worried him even more. That she didn't care an ounce whether the side effects she had mentioned five years ago may have affected him in any way sent discomfort in his gut. But then everything of those consummations dissolved the second she smiled and fished similar capsules from her own pockets. So, they still had the same bug after all. Shaking her head, she mumbled something about when they could ever get rid of those and popped two in her mouth, not drinking any water to ease the swallowing. Apparently, she had long since perfected the skill he forgot she ever had. A sigh of relief escaped her lips, her face however devoid of any countenance that suggested that a while ago she had been obviously troubled. At this, Shinichi wondered what preoccupation betrayed her composure or even what necessary prompting made her hide it in an instant.

But at least that had been a consolation. She was still very much like Haibara Ai after all.

"I didn't expect to see you here." she said, now rotating ninety degrees to face him. She stirred her drink absently, her breathing a series of sighs.

"Neither did I." he said truthfully but nevertheless feeling irrationally like lying because he had just been half-hoping to see her. Not that he regretted being that wishful. The Gods seemed to be smiling at him right now. "But you sure are a popular figure here, aren't you?" he noted, not without the sarcasm they used to bicker about. He was momentarily glad that he had something to tease her about. "It's a wonder you have not gone mainstream yet. Or even join AKB48 or something."

She stared at him like he had just suggested that the moon was made of cheese. A good performer or not, she still sure was never adorable.

He raised both of his hands, sheepishly waving a peace sign. "Hey..." Then he sighed, figuring that it was all too puerile. Not to mention futile. "I was just saying I never did expect you'd make a living out of music when you never did even show interest in it in the past. I kind of remember a time when you didn't as much as bat an eye when you met a celebrity. It sort of makes me wonder really. I mean, for since when? —what? five years?—you have been supporting yourself through this. I really was kind of taken aback. But make no mistake, you have a nice-sounding voice. Sort of reminds me of Akiba Reiko-san's remark years ago? Remember it? But you really do sing well, now that you are an adult."

Eyebrows raised, she snorted. "Hmmm. So says the tone-deaf." An amused expression graced her expression, something he knew well, in all those days she said she was thinking of him as her "solace"— when in reality, she meant that as her comfort for mind-numbing boredom. Shinichi flinched but he had to say he missed that too. "But it's not the whole five years as you seem to think. And I don't really make a living out of this. Or at least, not to support me fully." She smirked. "You know me well to deduce I don't exactly live the Spartan way."

He knew she didn't. "What do you mean? Like this is merely part-time gigs? Or something" He was incredulous. If so, and if she still was living in that excessively extravagant way of hers, where was she getting her income? "You really are not a full-time singer?"

"I am not." she confirmed nonchalantly, like it was to be expected. By him no less. Well, come to think of it, he should have. "Actually, I have decent stocks in the market that pays me well, along with the occasional professional consultation fee the Bureau provides me every time they encounter something new in their toxicology department. You know, there still are some nutcases who think they have the world under their feet by playing with biotechnology. And since I used to be one, the Feds commissioned me to analyze some new substances that appears in various situations that caught their attention, particularly in the Top Hoodlum Program." Then she smiled knowingly, almost with some pride."Through that, I became sort of a favorite. It helped that I am quite known by the top players in the program."

Shinichi was beyond aghast."How come I don't know that?" His voice had risen a notch in his outburst and she gave him a disapproving frown. Realizing his impertinence, he stole a furtive glance to anyone who might have been watching them to be enough to be a cause of her embarrassment. From behind the drum set, he saw Idesaki, who was staring at both of them with a suggestive grin. So he had not left after all, he thought, slightly irritated.

But a more arresting thought seized him. All this time, working with the FBI, she had just been under his very nose. And they had not informed him. And she didn't even contact him. He felt his insides boiling up with anger.

Reading his thoughts, she said. "But that only started two years ago. By then, you were no longer closely affiliated with the FBI. I checked."

That was true. "And yet you didn't as much as give me a call. Say something like hey-I'm-still-alive greeting." The sulk was apparent in his tone. "And Hakase too." Then he paused, remembering how the old inventor chose never to talk about her possible whereabouts. Agasa-hakase is very good at keeping secrets. Especially if he had been forewarned. "Or does he know?"

Her answer was an affirmative nod.

Shinichi let out a heavy sigh.

She squeezed his shoulder gently. Despite it being a friendly gesture, Shinichi stiffened. "I figured I'd better let fate find a path for us to cross. If time wants us to meet again, then be it. But otherwise, I thought we'd better be off with our lives. The same thing would have happened, had we kept in touch. We would still go on by our lives. And I have been happy anyway."

Shinichi wanted to tell her he had not been. But he knew that was the wrong thing to say.

"My only mistake was not being in attendance in your wedding." she went on, much to his heartache. "But since we've met now, I might as well drop by one of these days. Hakase has been boasting he lost much weight through some nice diet program that he can wear his formal suits without his belly sticking out."

Despite the jolly dismissal, Shinichi couldn't help but be stern when he asked."Why didn't you come anyway?"

A glint of foreboding crossed her features but she kept a smile still. Always the one who liked to keep up a charade, he thought, Haibara Ai. "Why? Did I miss something?"

"You didn't." he replied,shrugging. He figured that antagonizing her into blame wouldn't help in any way to have his persistent unanswered questions answered. And at the back of his mind, it wouldn't add any points to any consideration as to what agenda he was battling in his pros and cons that night. "But still..."

He couldn't add anything.

How could he when in retrospect—which might as well be not exactly true—, he imagined that her appearance at that time would have provoked more regret as to the vows he had said than he already was and is, having now?

Her eyes were downcast on her drink when she responded. "I was abroad at that time." Thinking of it now, he is sure he had detected a note of wistfulness in her voice. But he had disregarded it,shocked that she managed to when he checked every flight records for anyone that might fit her description or what she may likely to have put in it.

She would have been very, very sly to have evaded him. Or maybe, as was more likely, she got some help. The FBI perhaps? But didn't she say the communication was but two years ago since?

"Really? Where?"

She still wasn't looking at him. Shinichi was afraid she would revert to laconic responses now. "Italy. In Venice." Then she met his eyes and that at least reassured him."Where streets are always flooded. But it's a centerpiece for music, particularly the classics. Which explains me. And..." She held out an arm, encompassing her surroundings."...this."

Before he could ask what had she been doing there all this time, she moved on."I didn't know you and Idesaki-kun knows each other."

"The same with me." he said, grinning. "It's not as if I know he is frequenting the same bar you are part-timing at. Or for that matter, that he will bring me here someday. What is it? Wonderful coincidence? Or as you said, an inevitability?"

"I actually don't believe in such baloney as fate—no offense. I only said it for easier understanding. I don't believe that events are connected. Rather, I believe that one event affects another. There's a difference."

He agreed there was. She still hadn't changed. Still talking about obscure reiterations.

"And therefore," she resumed in a tone that he knew well. The tone of laid-out deducing."I can see, there is something that drove you here other than just Idesaki-kun. Haido City place is not the only place with decent bars. Beika has one right?"

He waited.

"In other words, it wouldn't take much of a detective to deduce you have something in your mind." she went on. "But admittedly, I was rather surprised you'd choose to go to a bar when you are baffled. So Kudo, what case is it? What in the name of a confused Holmes could render you this mundane so as to find comfort in a couple of drinks?"

He winced, For two good reasons. One she had just gave him the very thing he postponed about wondering: why was he here? Answer: it was merely the subconcious and he was looking for someone to talk to. There she was. And he told her so.

"Isn't Idesaki-kun enough?" she asked with a taunting smile. Shinichi was mesmerized.

"Well he brought me here and thereby I found you. So now, as you say so, he _isn't _just enough." He told her that he was his agent but not initiated enough to be what he would call his partner,

"So you are here for a _partner_ then?" she asked with a frown, apparently still thinking this was all about a case. "Or perhaps more likely, a sidekick?"

"I didn't expect to find you really. I wasn't actually looking for you." But in truth, that was merely hindsight.

"Well, who said anything about me?" she countered. And they laughed. Shinichi couldn't say he missed that. She seldom ever laughed if she could help it. "So what brings you here? I mean, what _really. _Do tell me about it." She leaned closer, her breath almost tickling him. How it happened _now_, since in the past there was nothing most unusual or unsettling in that confidential gesture, he doesn't know. Even after everything was over. Even after she explained it to him.

But her interrogative sends him coming back to the second thing she just had thrown at him. Why, _again_, was he here?

He hesitated.

She frowned and he knew immediately she had seen it in a glance. "Is it about Ran-san?" she asked quietly.

The atmosphere of the reunion instantly shifted.

"Yes it is." he conceded, "And many more." He told her about his constant rows with Ran and while he was considering a settlement for divorce, he was afraid it was out of the question. When your wife grew up with eternally, disagreeing divorced parents and spend just about forever in complaining about it, one just felt guilty and feared exactly that it may really be out of the question.

She thought about it. Shinichi knew what regions these were taking. Of course he had to overcome his guilt. For both their sakes.

And yet he couldn't.

Or maybe it was more than that.

"We never did agree about single thing since our marriage." he continued "To date she blames for us being still childless. Says I don't have much time. And that I was too distracted that I did not hit the spot... precisely." Despite himself—or maybe because of it, he laughed. The chuckles faltered when the other didn't join in. He bowed his head in shame and whispered, deciding to be blunt. " Sex with Ran isn't as good as I once thought."

Shiho, actually looked horrified. "Marriage is not just about that Kudo-kun." But she didn't sound as if she herself was convinced of that. "It's just a... bonus."

He smiled mirthlessly. "Really? Isn't it, really?"

"No. I mean yes." she was breathing hard. Although at the time, Shinichi thought it was mere apprehension, the shock that she no longer the Edogawa she used to know. Maybe loved. "But Kudo—"

"God this is depressing." He said dismissively. He took a swig from his refilled glass, wanting no longer to dwell in this subject. "So you sing here always?"

"Kudo I—"

"You are quite a popular figure here, so you say, everyone knows you as Shiho? That's pretty obnoxious?" He was eager. He didn't want to talk about anything else but her tonight.

She sighed in surrender. "No. They know me as Sherry." She took the surprised look in his face nonchalantly. "After the drink. I don't see any harm about being a little open with your past once in a while even if most people don't know what it means. Memories are what made me what I am, regardless of their nature. I have learned that."

He was shocked. "So by once-in—a-while, you mean an M-W-F basis? Here?" At the corner of the bar, as Shinichi ostentatiously shifted from the stool, he spied Idesaki seated not far, grinning and shaking his head.

"No I have variations. My band sing at other bars as well."

"Geez. You sound like Okino Yoko-san." he quipped, earning a glare from her. Oh, how he missed that! "Can't imagine what they pay you. You are very much loved."

That opened another line of inquiry.

"So what about you? Dating anyone at the moment? Or perhaps it is true that you're gay?" he asked, faking good-humor. He was worried. But he didn't acknowledge it at the time.

She did not take his interest in offense. Shinichi rationalized she was used to this. If anything, Idesaki must have asked the same thing to her when they met. And got nothing for his pains.

"There was one."

He was incredulous. "Really?" And desperately uneasy that even he, didn't notice the vaguely reminiscent look from her face. Or the pain.

"Yes. But once was enough."

He fell silent. It was obvious that it was heart-wrenching memory and that she didn't want to talk about it.

Then like the poker-faced actress that she was, she drifted once again to the composed. Smiling, she asked him. "So how's Hakase?"

They talked for the next few hours, bickering like the old friends that they were. So absorbed they were that no one dared to disturb them, even her stoic bandmates who obviously had something to ask her. She still was as intimidating as ever. Maybe she hadn't changed much after all.

A sense of euphoria overwhelmed him. He was enjoying her company and he found himself not caring about anything else. He felt flattered whenever she smiled, like he was included in her circle of attention. How mesmerizing were those eyes. He wondered. If she could just set things straight in him he had by just flashing a curve in a mouth, what else could she do?

She knew enough not to prompt him more about Ran. And he knew enough not to ask her further about her yet unnamed one-time love.

At half past three, Idesaki approached them, eyes groggy from his short alcohol-induced nap, when he decided to sleep was better than watching two people speaking in undertone about their lives. And possibly what it would be eventually. He tapped Shinichi at the back. "Time to hit the road now boss." He said, pulling him up. "Got to take my boy home now Shiho. Before you seduce him."

To Shinichi's surprise, she took the remark quite well. "We were just having a nice conversation." She stood then and awarded them both a soft smile. "See you around."

He wanted to stay, talk to her till morning. Maybe sleep on her bed and wake up beside her. But his obligations from Beika beckoned at him and he knew that Idesaki would never let him stay. _You have a wife in Beika. _A rendition of his words played in his mind. So he bid her goodbye, promised that he would be in her next gig and without telling Idesaki, put his name and mail address in the mailing list.

"Thanks." he told her as she saw him towards the door.

"What for?"

"For always being my partner."

(TBC)


	4. In retrospect

Title: The Cure

Author: holmesfreak1412

Fandom: Detective Conan/Case Closed

Pairing: Kudo Shinichi & Miyano Shiho

Genre: Angst, Drama

Rating: T (for minor sexual imagery)

Language: English

Summary: She's the cure… The cure that makes it worse

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Detective Conan Franchise. Rights for the characters and the plot that connected them in the first place all belong to Aoyama Gosho. This story, however is mine. And so are the cameo original characters that will appear in here.

The Idea of the APAH capsule and everything else belongs to FS and her awesome fanfics "Ghost at Twilight" and "Encounter in Venice". I highly recommend those if you want to come out changed. In my case, it helped me become a more introspective writer. It wouldn't hurt much if I say now that this is a homage of her works. While this is certainly not as good, I hope she (and you) will come to appreciate my efforts.

Author's Note: As you are about to deduce probably in this chapter (a hands-up to **white-lily00),** yes, I am a chemical engineering student with a profound interest in biochemistry which is not to say I am as much of a genius as Miyano Shiho is or anyone else you can name. Although I certainly am well-informed as to the improvements in the science of genetics and the pharmaceutical. I am, as you would have noticed very much interested particularly in the ethical issues that are on stream at its implementation. And yes, aside from being bored and being dared by my little cousin, the provocation to create this six-part story came from such. Without being a Frankenstein story, the not-so-happy ending is derived from my not-so-happy feelings about both the issues of extra-marital affairs and the scrupulous science of genetics. Perhaps I can go as far as to say as aside from this being a homage to two of my favorite fanfics here in this archive (FS's _Encounter in Venice_ and _Ghost at Twilight_) which as I say inspired me a lot to push me to continue writing even after I began to lose hope with my skills, this is also an attempted eye-opener with a few touch of angst romance as Michael Crichton's _Next_ had endeavored to be.

And thereby is the reason for the rather mundane title.

And no, I don't think I am upgrading this to Rated M. I may not be as explicit in my details for the text to be put on the mature tag. Somebody should put his mind out of the gutter (Lol!)

…

…

**The Cure**

**Part 4**

…

**In retrospect**—the tears, the recriminations, the blackouts—the mere remembrance of those words only brings him pain. _For always being my partner. _She had always been. And that didn't do them any good at all. Because of _the cure. _The cure that only makes it worse. How accurate can that be? After all, everything did start with a cure and each, as evidenced now, it didn't do both of them any good at all. Maybe at first. But to Shinichi, it is merely another faraway memory. Like a moth after the elusive star. Knowing that what he wants for himself to be _finally_ unreachable is the only thing that will keep him well. And living the way he should be.

Days afterwards, Shinichi had rushed into the mailbox, all in anticipation for a flyer that was to invite him in a place where they could talk for hours and be isolated from the rigors of life called the outside world. True enough, oblivion could be attained in a few glasses and there was nothing more escaping than a dose of Sherry for his exhausted soul. The sight of her—it filled him with great excitement, inexplicably rewarding in a sense that even her merest smile could send flutters amidst his boxer shorts. Seductive. She wasn't touching him yet. He wondered what would happen if she did and how it would feel. He couldn't explain it and even after she did, he still can't. He didn't believe it. And it cost him much.

Thinking of it now, he knows he had been behaving oddly at that time. He had been irritable of every day passing that returned no mail for him. Even more so than usual, to the point that even provoked the worst of paranoia, the psychological apprehension of a husband who coveted the freedom of a bachelor to take a new lover. For once, he was starting to feel like a criminal would in face of a dangerous adversary, the prospect of being caught. He was trying to be as stealthy as possible, trying to be nice to his wife when all he was thinking of was where-the-hell-should-_she_-be-singing-next-week?— but establishing rapport was impossible when you have the guilt of a philanderer in your sleeve. He was beginning to turn into a different person and Ran knew—knows, that. He didn't. At least not before _she_ told him, a word of forewarning he failed to heed. Until it was too late. And Kudo Shinichi, as the world knew him, was gone with the wind.

Just because he didn't listen.

How could he, when he didn't—still doesn't, want to believe it himself?

But then again, she was at fault too.

For days, he waited. He almost wondered if Ran had in some way intercepted it and thinking it was a mistake (_"Shinichi doesn't like jazz."_), didn't tell him about it. Kicking himself for not getting a phone number, he realized that he had also put in his mailing form his _private_ email address— and isn't every promotional flyer being sent in cyberspace nowadays instead? The wonder of technology. Your infidelity floating in very decipherable words online. So he signed in his "private" account—something he didn't frequent much considering that he didn't have any _private _correspondence— and found it there. **_DiscHonest- Saturday, 21:00. _**

It was a ridiculous name for a bar. But if omens could be indeed ominous, this was it.

He had invited himself in, no longer caring if his excess excitement for the free night ahead his wife thought to be connected with a case would sound suspicious to her or anyone else. All he wanted was to be with _her_ again. After all, twenty five years was old enough to know there was something missing. And it was just that. He was missing _her_.

He thought it was about to get filled.

Apparently not.

She didn't seem surprised when he came alone that night. Coming up after an extraordinary performance, he found her talking to the bassist as they meticulously dismantled the drum set, beautiful as always.

She smiled when she saw him. "Your friend's not with you tonight?"

"He's got something else to do." He lied.

There was a mischievous glint in her eyes, one that always appeared in her countenance whenever she knew there was something he found too embarrassing that he just compulsively lied. Which was then, the case. "I find it hard that Idesaki-kun have anything to do. He seemed to have a lot of time in his hands."

His denial had been futile.

And so it became that in the next few days he made his presence known in her gigs, she didn't seem surprised at all. Not at all. Shinichi began to suspect that she knew exactly where this was going. And that only served to frustrate him. It appeared to him that she was keeping him in a certain distance as much as possible—within arm's reach, close enough to be together but far enough not to let him get under her skirt.

He only wishes now that she herself has succeeded on that.

When in the tenth night, she let him kiss her cheek after the stage performance, he knew that her self-control was finally wavering. He didn't attempt to explain it— why did it take this long. Or even, why would she let it now. He didn't care. Uncharacteristic perhaps but that was it. What could explain it but his pent-up longing for a spiritual fulfillment that was never catered even after he married Ran? Or the unacknowledged love he knew he must have felt for this woman before him? The love he didn't dare pursue because he had been a coward.

But there always was an explanation.

He thought himself remarkably brave now, taking this huge risk. Somehow, he understood how the criminals mistook their drive for personal gain as something as positive as courage. He felt a secret thrill in pining for this equally secret life, like he never felt before in any stakeout in his detective career. The prospect of eradicating the Organization had been nothing compared to this, where the reward of completeness would be attained when he just waited. After all, anything comes to those who wait. Apes become man. Sand becomes pearls. Coal becomes diamonds.

But he always was an ape, with sand and coal only to hide what kind of a dirty creature he had been and still is.

By the time she asked him out, barely a month had passed. Indeed, Shinichi thought, given time everything will be fine. And he didn't even need eternity for everything to be perfect. "You have anything to do tonight?"

He affirmed he had a free night ahead, since he didn't really promise Ran he would come home. But he didn't tell her that. Who knew? She always did have softness with his wife, who she admitted once that reminded her a lot of her sister. In ways more than one.

"Wanna go to a party?"

He was almost disappointed.

Apparently, it was the band's first anniversary, specifically the very day Miyano Shiho joined their league after a series of events he didn't—couldn't actually understand. Only then did their band gained the attention they were basking upon now. One thing he knew for sure though was that these guys knew or knew of the elusive once-was-enough boyfriend she preferred not to talk about. And that whoever the deuce he was, he obviously was the one who influenced her to have a zealous inclination towards music. He struggled to fit in the banter among the members but miserably failed. Eventually, he gave up and contented himself by watching her, enjoying now the normal life she deserved to get.

Could he really ruin that?

No, he decided. She wanted him too. He knew it.

When finally the party of five dispersed into separation, she offered to drive him home in her car, a luxury she afforded by her lavish commission from the Feds or so she said. He slid inside and she drove, treading smoothly in Haido City's crossroads without so much as engaging into small talk. Behind the wheel, she was silent the whole time, the sheer monotony filled only with a classical radio station she flipped and chose. Shinichi let her be. He knew she needed it for herself this time, especially if she was already aware of his intentions. And God knows he needed it too. There he was in an errand to start a secret life, with his wife of three years sleeping alone in a cold bedroom, mind troubled by their even more troubled marriage. And this girl he was searching for desperately, sitting just beside him, holding his future in her hands. What he would become depends on her acquiescence—or otherwise.

He didn't notice that they were no longer on the way back to Beika until it was too late. And that they had pulled up.

Acquiescence.

He was satisfied.

They had stopped by a deserted roadside fronting a small stone brick cottage, with an untended lawn up front and the walls in slight state of disrepair. The house looked ill-kempt from the outside. Shinichi wondered if this was one of the residences she said she kept under an assumed name, explaining why he never found Miyano Shiho in any real estate record. If so, deducing by the appearance, why wasn't she frequenting it?

Turning off the engine after she retracted back the roof of the convertible, Shiho finally spoke. "This belongs to my ex-boyfriend." she said, a bitter smile playing in the corner of her lips. "He left this to me after he took off."

Shinichi felt an uncharacteristic tug in his gut at the words. "Seems to me like you don't go around here very much." he said it as casually as he could, hoping that what he surmised, even wished was true.

But no. "I go here once a week. Like an inner sanctum you see. Where I can think of how my life is in a more hospitable atmosphere. But as you can see, I never can spare the time to mow the lawn." A wink. "But you'll find the interior cozy enough. If you want to have a nightcap with me."

The euphemism wasn't lost on him. "Why did you take me here?" he asked, although he knew it was but needless.

True enough, instead of answering, she asked him back. "You're curious about _him_ aren't you?"

"Why? Does it matter?" Because to him, it really didn't. What they would become now should have nothing to do with what she used to have with another.

"Yes it does." she snapped. "I know exactly what you want us to be Kudo-kun. And I am just warning you. I already had said that once had been enough."

"What? Is he a married man too?"

"No. Far from it." she answered, a tight smile on her face. "We met five years ago. In Venice, obviously. And well, we got together. We have this serious live-in affair and it was going on well for a while. He and I got along well enough."

Shinichi, watching the dramatic alteration in her features could almost swear that she was blushing. Indeed, it had been a very serious affair. "And yet he left you." he said softly, not wanting to be harsh by pointing out directly that she should move on. He wanted her to. To him. But he was curious.

"He left me. Yes." she said flatly, staring at him in the eyes. "And so will _you_ too."

He was beyond offended. "What are you-"

She held up a hand, restraining him without words. "No. Let me explain first." Her voice sounded oddly like the time she gave him a lecture as to how to prepare her painkiller substance. Or when she explained to him once why they have shrunk. Shinichi believed she must have gone nuts to relate anything to a scientific theory. She would probably preach something about the psychology that drove people into seeking new partners. Or prescribe him a capsule of Valium.

What he couldn't imagine that had he thought of it some more, he would have been closer to the truth.

"Kudo-kun. Truth is, when I saw you still dependent on the APAH, I was disappointed. I still am. I should have expected it but I still don't want to believe it."

Now, he was out of all sorts. "What the hell _that_ has have to do with anything?"

"Everything. It has to do with you being here for one." She didn't wait for any response him but just went on. Listlessly. Like she knew everything she was talking about, which she probably did. Without preamble, she told him and as every word started to sink in, Shinichi felt his skin tingle. Anger and shock mixed through his veins as he listened and hung up in every utterance.

She left him when the definitive antidote was finally dispensed successfully into term and taken by thereafter both of them when they discovered that the APTX substance was actually destroying their cells little by little, a side effect to the already disastrous shrinking. Forced in her hand but still scientifically unsettled, Shiho did stay long enough to realize that the post antidote time would be punctuated constantly by constant migraine. In this she managed to make another breakthrough in the dispensary and made an equally manageable formula for an effective painkiller which Shinichi could easily make by himself. Dubbed as APAH, the drug however has one catch: it has to be taken constantly as it is but a temporary relief. Pain reliever, she said, would have been an apter term.

"And another catch," she said, sighing heavily. "is that APAH do have some side effects itself."

Or at least, the prolonged consumption of it. Which, was their case.

One night, during her time in Venice, Shiho made a mistake in her home preparations of the APAH and overdid it. Her ever elusive boyfriend, having another excruciating headache of his own took the flawed capsule that was wholly untested and thus, in her purview, inherently dangerous. He had a minor overdose and sank into a long worrisome stupor. Eventually he did regain consciousness, with no ill-effects whatsoever. Shiho, momentarily was relieved.

Until they made it to bed that night.

She described the experience with so much details that Shinichi almost requested for her to go on with her story and spare him the love life he deemed to resent for missing, when he should have been there not that man, whoever it was. The night had been amazing, she told him. Very much of a proof that sex, if anything, couldn't be really that overrated.

That would have been fine, had not for yet another catch.

Her boyfriend got addicted to it.

During the day, amidst the whole watchful world, he was the best partner a girl could ever have. Nothing could ever derail him and he kept saying he felt really good. At night, he would request another capsule which he claimed to have given him the drive and make love with her, with increasing intensity that at another time would have perplexed her greatly.

Not that she didn't enjoy it. As she herself was addicted to it.

But not enough to have override her scientific instincts, that was her own drive to find what was behind the heavenly nights. She drew a sample of his blood secretly in his sleep to make a study of it. Pleasure of curiosity was better than anything, like Robert Louis Stevenson talking about the path of destination being better than the destination itself. She had to find what was behind this new light and she derived excitement from it, even if it meant impenetrable darkness in the end.

The first thing she unearthed had by no means been a surprise for her. She had expected the flawed APAH her boyfriend partook and rolled his dependence into what it was then indeed that: a flaw. Albeit, with side effects so unimaginable that she couldn't help wondering whether she just inadvertently invented the newest drug for mankind's dominating woes. What she didn't understand at the time was in turn, her boyfriend's withdrawal when declined too long. After the accidental taking of the first failed APAH, her boyfriend had been hugely reliant with the normal APAH too, suffering with the same headaches as she was. Not only that but he had been craving for her nocturnal attention too, desperate if she even teased him just a little. Almost rough. Shiho concluded that somehow, the failed APAH, which she surmised to be some new concoction she had somewhat creating in a whim of scatter-brained frenzy, had affected the man's sexual drive and like the antidote, had caused the same migraines as she was having, hence the instinctive reliance to the drug. She never suspected that there was more.

Further tests after all yielded that the "failed drug" was actually APAH itself, in all essences, only stronger. Realizing what the implications would be, she repeated the test many times but then was duly forced to conclude the very thing she feared: that APAH had some unacknowledged side effects to those who took it and that it bordered in the sexual. Only that she was taking such small dosages of it and in a daily, digestive basis that she didn't significantly feel it. Her boyfriend, who then ingested a large dose in one round obviously felt the more alteration in his system. And by getting entangled with it closely, he had put Shiho in another predicament, realizing what she didn't until then. That was she had been victim to this long enough for the poison to take on another basis. With this, there was yet another thing that was suggestive. This was getting to be biochemical problem and that this obsession with the drug, however rewarding as it was in one's sex life , was getting to be something to worry about. Especially since it had the rather distinct characteristic that the pheromonal attraction only worked when the two people had taken the same amount of the substance over time. Which had been their case.

The two years following the discovery, their life at night had been revolutionary. No words could ever describe it.

But then slowly or maybe it was just there all along, that credence began to take over their relationship.

"What happened to him?" Shinichi asked as she paused to muster her breath. She was looking distant as she got more immersed in her reminiscence.

"As I said he took off years ago."

"Didn't like it anymore?"

She looked at him, like he was being gullible for asking that. "No. Actually. He liked it too much."

From afar, an owl crooned. Shinichi suddenly felt a creep in his spine at the resonance.

"So?" she asked eventually "Did that satisfy your curiosity?"

"Yes.. NO..." Then he sighed, figuring that fumbling for the right words to start this off was but futile. He decided to be frank. "Fine. I'm curious. You may think I am some perv from saying that. But remember this, it has nothing to do with-"

"What? The marvel of sex with me?"

"No. It isn't what I want." Liar, he tells himself now. But at that time, it sounded so true. "Listen Hai-... Shiho, don't sell yourself short. You are an amazing person. From what I know, a loving individual. You want to be loved. I don't see any reason why you don't deserve any of that."

"Sure you say that. Afterwards-"

"No. What I am trying to say is that what does your past with your ex has to do with anything with us?"

"Everything as I said. You see, I still left something unexplained."

That when she said there was oddity in the side effects of APAH about the duration of its taking, she was trying to tell him something. That the only person other than he and boyfriend who might be in the same situation as them minus the equally afflicted partner was him, Kudo Shinichi.

"Why? Shouldn't that be perfect?" he noted stubbornly

"I expected you'd say that." she said. "But things are merely not as easy as that. Now tell me, why are you seeking to start this affair with me?"

"Because I want to be with you."

"Think of it some more."

He didn't. "Because things with Ran aren't as good as I envisioned it to be."

She glared at him. "She is not to be blamed Kudo-kun."

"I am not blaming her."

"Yes you do." she spat out angrily. "But let me lay you out my explanation. You're here because it is what your cells commanded you to do. And it was what my drug bid for your cells to tell you so."

She then explained it, in as much layman's terms as possible. APAH's consumption, allegedly increases the neurons production of the chemical DOPAMINE into highly abnormal margins which is capable of stimulating one's behaviour about taking risks. Particularly, about taking new sex partners which is why he was here...

"What? Are you trying to tell me that I am here because of a biochemical fluke?"

"Yes I am. Because you are."

Shinichi, by this time had finally reached the end of his patience. With a swift motion, he slid out of the car and started to walk towards the front door. Without thinking. Flamed up with rage.

Shiho, sighing in resignation, just followed.

"And yet you brought me here." he said, pointing at the door. "I find it hard it was just to keep me out of this."

"I was taking a risk." she answered quietly. She looked at him, an agonized look on her face. Shinichi felt an an urge to comfort her but was too upset to do so. How could she just about everything to science that was not even proven? Here he was, real and one who wanted her more than her ex could ever do. Why couldn't she just accept that and bid him in finally?

"You have a wife Kudo." she said finally. "You have a life that doesn't include me."

"That's right. I have a wife. I have a life that doesn't include you." he responded, taking her hand. "What I can say? It's there. But what I am saying is, I want to love you."

She stared at him. "And you want me to touch you."

The wind blew in his face. Shinichi shivered. "Yes."

And she did.

In the bedroom with all the lights turned off, she began to straddle him, after having him take another APAH capsule. As she slowly took off his buttons, he wondered excitedly as to how exactly she would feel above him, how she would feel beneath him, how he would feel being above her.

It felt like heaven.

Moon on tide, she was heaven on earth, the other half of his soul. Shinichi caught every cry of pleasure with his lips and she did the same thing to him, their mingled moans and groans becoming an overwhelming musical crescendo as both of them reached their euphoria.

And Kudo Shinichi thought, this was better than any medicine he took in his life. Even the antidote. The cure it was, indeed.

The last thing he heard was her voice. And it was lights out for him.

(TBC)


	5. A voice was calling

Title: The Cure

Author: holmesfreak1412

Fandom: Detective Conan/Case Closed

Pairing: Kudo Shinichi & Miyano Shiho

Genre: Angst, Drama

Rating: T (for minor sexual imagery)

Language: English

Summary: She's the cure… The cure that makes it worse

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Detective Conan Franchise. Rights for the characters and the plot that connected them in the first place all belong to Aoyama Gosho. This story, however is mine. And so are the cameo original characters that will appear in here.

The Idea of the APAH capsule and everything else belongs to FS and her awesome fanfics "Ghost at Twilight" and "Encounter in Venice". However, the side effects and concept depicted in here has nothing to do with hers. I highly recommend those if you want to come out changed (but don't expect something as controversial as this. I mean the sex thingy.). In my case, it helped me become a more introspective writer. It wouldn't hurt much if I say now that this is a homage of her works. While this is certainly not as good, I hope she (and you) will come to appreciate my efforts.

Author's Note: **To Aya, should you ever read this:** I'll value that implicit advice.

And no, I definitely am not upgrading this to Rated M. I may not be as explicit in my details for the text to be put on the mature tag. Somebody should put his mind out of the gutter (Lol!)

…

…

**Part 5**

…

…

**A voice was calling **his name. Slowly cracking both eyes open and adjusting both in the blinding glare of daylight, Shinichi saw an angel, brilliantly radiant as if her whole being was engulfed in a penumbra of light. Beautiful in her nudity. Breathtaking in her sensuality.

"You okay?" she asked with concern, leaning into him, face crunched as she bent towards him and put the back of one hand over his forehead, like she was checking his temperature. Her expression betrayed nothing, just stared back at him nonchalantly with a serious countenance fixed as she fumbled on her blankets and started to rise.

With a start, Shinichi himself rose and wrapped his arms round her body to restrain her. Feeling her trembling slightly, he turned her around gently, cupped both of her cheeks and met her lips. He told her within kisses that the night had been wonderful and she was a goddess, ostentatiously dropping a hint or two that committing a grievous sin will be okay if that means it would be an instant express to heaven. Or whatever bliss he had just experience the other night.

When they parted, she pushed him down back the bed, hands poised delicately on his chest. For a moment before they came into making love again, Shinichi thought he saw her face drift into sadness just before it was replaced by the enticing seductive smirk and succeeded by a long, passionate kiss.

Kudo Shinichi fell asleep again.

…

An hour before noon, Sunday, he woke up and found her seated on a chair, fully-dressed with two steaming coffee mugs placed accessibly to the both of them on the nighttable. One hand held a lit cigarette as she went to the bedside and handed him his cup. Staring at the smoking tube between her long, manicured fingers, he was surprised. Very much that he couldn't find his words to describe what he was feeling or even to relay it to her. The only thing he was positive was in all the ten weeks odd he was going in and out of her life; he never once saw her smoke. A post-sex whim of hers?

Well, if it was good enough for her, he decided exultantly, it was good enough for him. He asked for a stick. Wordlessly, she supplied him two along with silver lighter.

He released the first noxious fumes with a contented sigh. He never felt this liberated all his life.

"Smoking cigarettes is dangerous for your health." He said in between exhalations and sat in front of her shamelessly. "But who cares?"

She poked the end into an ashtray, dislodging the remnant ash with a flourish. If such a move could be describe as anything elegant, hers was. Shinichi smiled with some pride but quickly erased it when he realized that he was turning exactly as what Idesaki had once thought him he was, a guy exalting over an intense night with such a lady. He reminded himself it wasn't like that at all.

Not answering his quip about the quote at the back of every cigarette pack in the world, she leaned and took his drained cup. He half expected her to put it back to the table and sit beside him, ruffle his hair and kiss him. When she did not however and just went back to where she was seated, he felt a bit awkward. If not disappointed.

"You passed out." She said coolly. "Normally, the first time would only take an hour of fainting unconsciousness. You took three."

"Why? You're worried about me?"

"Of course I was." She answered, shrugging. "Who knows what sort of other side effects this will give us? We've been taking this for five years running already so I won't be surprised if either of us couldn't take it anymore. Your sex cells might react to mine unfavorably and-"

Shinichi sighed heavily, audible enough to interrupt her tirade. He sounded appropriately exasperated. "We already talk about this didn't we? Don't you dare reduce what happened between us into a pharmaceutical issue."

"But it is." She insisted. "You see, what would have I done had you not woken up?"

"But I did, so I don't understand what you are so worried about. Heaven knows, I needed the sleep anyway." He winked mischievously. She only returned it with a flat stare.

For minutes, not a word was exchanged, both afraid that it would destroy the time set for momentary peace of the other. It was very much different as to how they used to before when silence to them was conversation enough. He felt even more awkward as the quietude become more… disquieting.

Eventually, after a drag and a long sigh, she said. "You should start off now. " She stood and tossed to him his rumpled clothes. "Your wife is probably worried sick about you. " She then impertinently released a cloud of smoke straight to his face. He coughed. She didn't seem to care. "Now, go. I don't want your wife calling the police or something."

He noticed the jibe in her words. She was referring to Ran in a highly impersonal way. Perversely, he thought that could be a start.

He kicked himself for even thinking that.

"I can always tell her I'm on a case." He said glumly, wanting above all for her to curl up beside him and smother him with her kisses.

But that wasn't to happen." No." she said without hesitation, pushing him to get dressed already. "This has been bad enough."

When he was about to leave, she didn't ask him when he would come back. But he told her anyway and she just gave him a stiff nod.

"Wait." She said when he was already at the door. He almost hoped she had changed her mind and finally decided to let him stay for a while. But again, it was not so. "There might be side effects you know."

Shinichi was disappointed. He sighed. "Geez, how many times do I have to tell you that this is not anything-"

"I'm serious. There might be withdrawal for instance."

"Withdrawal?"

"You'll see." And she closed the door to his face.

…

Nothing could pierce Kudo Shinichi's sense of well being for the next few months. And _they_ all tried. On his way to work, he was always singing—singing!—along with the resonance of her voice in his car stereo, each note not failing to give the euphoria he desired and the feeling of anticipation for her next gig. The satisfaction of life that had once eluded him, was now to be reached—with only a short drive towards the cottage in Hiroyuki street to cut the gap between them. Gradually, the essence of the whole place was starting to change to him. For it was their rendezvous , no matter how it once used to be for her. He hoped it was the same for her too. And that she had moved on. He was the one there now after all. Not her ex. Or anyone else.

He was nicer to Ran and in all significance, had morphed into someone she would call a better husband albeit a notch inattentive to his nocturnal duties, which he commiserated that wouldn't much make a difference if he was just the way she wished in the morning. To him, it was all that mattered and Ran seemed happy for that already. As a detective, he was no longer just superb but a legend, someone anyone could depend on, like how he used to be but even better since he knew there would be a reward for every case solved. He would tell her his exploits and one thing would lead to another. Indeed, his determination did wonders. Almost overnight, he was transformed into a better co-worker, a dependable subordinate and a tougher superior.

_Why not? _He asked himself once as he fishtailed towards the bar where she was performing on a Wednesday night. Why not? If this affair with Shiho made him an altogether better person… why not? He needed things for himself once in a while.

But it was not merely "once in a while".

Meanwhile, his attendance in her gigs became more frequent, their encounters in the bed even more so, Of course, they still talk. He told her about his cases, like he used to. She told about hers, the ones with the FBI. And they do brainstorming. One topic that was sore however, was the thing with her ex-boyfriend. She never talked about it. He never asked.

The same as just the fact that she also, almost never asked about how he and Ran was. He never told her, thinking she would just become insecure if he told her about the escalation in their pleasantry as husband and wife. He had been a fool to even believe that, he thinks now. But at the time, it felt so awakening, arousing even.

He really wanted to get to know her more. But as their sessions with the APAH capsule and in the cottage began to take over their relationship, it was harder to see their commitment for what it clearly wasn't. Friends with benefits? Hypocrisy. Bullshit. For this was all wrong. But by the time he came to realize it, it was too late. The damage was already done . Irrevocably.

_Jiken! _As little Ayumi-chan had once uncannily foretold. It was a _jiken! _An affair. Not that he was denying that though as he comes to think of it. For if indeed it made him a better person, why not?

In the increasing frequencies of their intercourses in the cottage, Shiho became colder, dispassionate in their casualty and if possible, a notch even more sarcastic in her repartees. Shinichi soon realized that if ever there was a special time for him to see her smoking, it were those that succeeded their nocturnal activities—the very time he would wake up, brimming with blissful contentment after the sex they had in her bed. Implicitly, it was as if she was keeping him in an emotional distance, remote in the sense that she appeared to be already a different person. It made him feel vaguely weird. Dirty even. And the more he needed her, the more her indifference came in between them like a wall. When at last, weary of her antics, he confronted her about it, he was met with the familiar shrug. And sarcasm.

"You said it yourself. You have a life that doesn't include me. What will I get from you? Why should I open myself to you?"

"Because that's what people do!" He was beyond exasperated. "They open up to friends, to someone. It's part of being a human. It's part of being a friend."

"It's not what I do."

"Geez!" He sighed and held her shoulders for her to look into his eyes, to see the sincerity in there. "What do I have to do for you to trust me?"

She looked at him and he saw that she was just as equally serious. "Don't see me for six weeks."

Shinichi laughed. Seriously? "What? Is this supposed to be a test or something?"

Her eyes were steely. "Six weeks. Six weeks clean. Can you do that?"

"What do you mean I can do that? Of course I can do that!"

He started out smug. Of course he could do that. His intentions were pure after all and it wasn't all about the drug. But barely two weeks had passed before everything started to sink in—the petty annoyances, the little insults and even small noises. He found himself constantly playing her CD at work but it no longer gave him the bliss he once marveled at. By the end of the day, he was always enervated and exhausted. Not even the most interesting cases could keep him awake long enough. And asleep was nothing short of a turmoil for it was always full with images of her. He called her. He sent her emails. She didn't answer. Each passing night brought more unanswered messages, unheeded calls and even more frustration.

Finally three weeks later, he was at her door, banging. When she opened it, stone-faced, he was nearly frantic. She pulled him inside, bolted the door behind him and faced him with coldness he never saw in any other's face, even from an angry Haibara Ai.

"Please!" he begged, clutching on her in mewling desperation, pleading. "Please!" And then she gave him the pill. He took it and he went inside his heaven, to the oblivion he craved, to the liberty he thought he got.

But then, it always would be the opposite for her.

(TBC)


	6. He awoke

Title: The Cure

Author: holmesfreak1412

Fandom: Detective Conan/Case Closed

Pairing: Kudo Shinichi & Miyano Shiho

Genre: Angst, Drama

Rating: T (for minor sexual imagery)

Language: English

Summary: She's the cure… The cure that makes it worse

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Detective Conan Franchise. Rights for the characters and the plot that connected them in the first place all belong to Aoyama Gosho. This story, however is mine. And so are the cameo original characters that will appear in here.

The Idea of the APAH capsule and everything else belongs to FS and her awesome fanfics "Ghost at Twilight" and "Encounter in Venice". However, the side effects and concept depicted in here has nothing to do with hers. I highly recommend those if you want to come out changed (but don't expect something as controversial as this. I mean the sex thingy.). In my case, it helped me become a more introspective writer. It wouldn't hurt much if I say now that this is a homage of her works. While this is certainly not as good, I hope she (and you) will come to appreciate my efforts.

Author's Note: Sorry for the abridging of the last chapter. Supposedly, half of what happens here should have been stuck in the last one but I got so tired that morning and wanting of another to post that I was forced to put this here. This, however will not really be longer than the rest but then is quite eventful enough that I may not be able to leave you hanging on a cliff xD.

Originally in my first brainstormings, the fic ended exactly as this chap does but as I started to finally put it into pen three or four months ago, I realized I still have to write more for things to make sense. Especially the ex-boyfriend part but no, I will not tell you much.

Note that the increase in Megure's rank is intentional

And no, I definitely am not upgrading this to Rated M. I may not be as explicit in my details for the text to be put on the mature tag. Somebody should put his mind out of the gutter (Lol!)

…

…

**Part 6**

…

…

**He awoke** in a darkened room which was contrast to what the luminescent digital dial of the clock radio was telling him. It was already half past seven in the morning and when at another time when the things with Shiho were all enjoyment and bliss, the time wouldn't have bothered him, this instance, everything was different. For the first time in several months, Kudo Shinichi found himself wanting to go home only, sleep for the rest of the day and lie in the bed he used to share with Ran which with some regret he had scarcely frequented ever since. Things were no longer the same now. He had paid a price for himself and his temporary paradise and lost both of the women in his life in the process. One of them he could reach anytime but felt guilty about no longer loving. The other, he _must_ have loved but could no longer ever reach the same way as he did before. Indeed, like binary stars: so close yet so far. So far yet so close. And yet that was too beautiful a thing to be metaphorized with what he was dwelling on now. He believed once that given time, everything would realize its potential. Given eternity, everything would be perfect. And yet that wasn't to be. Some apes never become man, no matter how much time it was given to be so. Just as monkeys with a typewriter would never be able to type Shakespeare in any way. All the same, stars would never get close with one another, its nearness forever but a deluding illusion. The universe, after all was expanding and even if only once a fantasy of attraction could be entertained, it would always end up in ruins. Gravity was a tricky thing really. A fired bullet would fall at the same speed as one that was only dropped. Everything was falling now. He was star that was reduced to nothing after time itself, putting everything around him into an eternal free fall. No way, he was only one of a pair of binary stars. More like, a supernova. And a blackhole which even time the great doctor couldn't ever cure.

A creak at the door knocked him of his reverie. From the feeble light, he could see her, fully dressed, a trail of smoke emanating from her like a kind of an ominous aura, as she sat by the bed, facing him. She didn't turn on any of the lights to which Shinichi was glad. He couldn't bear to face her now. And yet, he knew he had to talk to her. That was the only way, for them to finally stop falling, even if it meant hitting what he never imagined facing in all those times with her. Parting wouldn't be much of a sorrow when they were just sparing themselves more.

She did not say anything, with only the puffs of her smoke rising over the slant of light. With growing fury with himself, Shinichi wondered whether how much pleasure she got from between them. If she ever got any, that was.

"Shiho." He said softly, averting his eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Not as sorry as I am."

For the very first time in months, his nudity within her presence ashamed him. Fumbling for the blankets to cover what he saw as the marks of his sin, clearer than any confession of guilt from a murderer's lips, Shinichi sat up at the edge of the bed. But then no amount of obscurity could ever hide the pangs of guilt that was slowly creeping him. Beneath him, the soft mattress felt like thorns on his back. Shinichi realized then that the meaning of this place hadn't change after all. It always was a source of pain for her and an aggravation for his insecurity, how he couldn't just be the person he deemed to be. That he was no different than the man who left her this, the scar that started every wound he was suffering from, lacerations he could just never cure.

He stood and came up to her. She wouldn't look at him in the eye.

"Look Shiho." He began finally, holding her shoulders. From his grasp, he could feel how tensed she was. Painfully, he wished he could take it away with a touch of his hand. As she had done for him. But he never could, couldn't he? "One of us has to end this."

"No."

"I thought I could take away your pain. I seem to have only caused you more."

"No, that's not true." She whispered, out of breath.

"You know it is."

"No." She was shaking her head violently, stil not looking at him. Shinichi cupped both of her cheeks to steady him but her resolve was far stronger. She slinked away from him and from the darkness, Shinichi could perceive glitters of tears. "That's not true. Please don't feel guilty."

"But I do!"

"You're not causing me any pain." Her voice was trembling. "Really, I can handle it. I can-"

"No, let me finish." Shinichi told her firmly, her face between his hands. "You know this isn't right. I know it now. You have proven it. I mean, look at me Shiho. You are right, I am no better than a junkie. I thought I was. I set myself to be. But I can't keep doing this to you. It's not fair to you. It's not fair to my wife… Ran. I can't keep using you to deal with my own problems. You deserve more than that. You deserve real love. And I'm not the person to be able to give that."

On this, she looked up at him, squarely, her eyes looking glassy and horrified. She slapped his hands away, gasping. "What are you saying?" Her voice cracked.

"I'm saying—Geez!—I'm saying that I care so much about you to keep fucking you."

Tears welled up from her wide eyes and in a moment of dawning horror, Shinichi realized why.

"Oh no! That's what _he_ said to you, isn't it?" he said, panting. "Oh no! I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. This is not what-" And he moved to stand, to get away but she wouldn't have anything to that. She tried to stop him.

"Don't go! Please don't!"

But all he wanted was to go.

In another thunderclap, he felt a jolt pierce his neck. Feet buckling and vision turning, the last thing he saw was the outline of her figure, with a still glowing stun gun on one hand, lighting for a moment her guilty, terrified face as she move to check his pulse.

Kudo Shinichi fell senseless on the floor.

...

He came to his senses hours later, every muscle in his body aching. Feeling the cold linoleum beneath him, Shinichi realized that he wasn't moved since he passed out. He rubbed the back of his head as he propped himself upright, his eyes scanning for any sign of her in the room, fearing that she had been so shocked of what she had done and so forgot herself to leave him there and run forth to who-knows-where. In any case, she wouldn't be able to lift his limp figure singlehandedly so Shinichi didn't take her leaving him as he was as any offense. Neither would he put her in any fault of her immobilizing him. She was desperate too as he had been. That way, they were even. Squinting, he searched for her whilst seated and was poleaxed instead when he heard her voice behind him.

She was squatted behind him all this time. Without making any move to acknowledge what had transpired just a few hours prior this, she handed him his clothes, telling it's late over and over again. When he got dressed, she opened the door for him. "It's late." was all she said. He took the hint and walked himself out. Gone were the days when endearments would be exchanged or kissing that once meant there would be joy in this parting as there would still be more. Her affair with her was finally over and he was glad of that…

He got back to Beika when it was nearly sunrise. Driving back towards his house, he had started to make up reasons for his daylong absence, both in his work and abode where Superintendent Megure probably have inquired for him. He entered soundlessly through the unlocked door and he couldn't just help but feel guilty at this very action. Here he was, an inconsiderate husband with a wife risking her neck with an unbolted door contrary to her every precautions in a notion of making realize that she still was, in all her hardships and insecurity, still waiting for him.

And yet, Kudo Shinichi thought, if only he didn't make it this far, this bad. If only he just let Ran go the first moment he thought things between them were falling, would everything that was wrong now would have been right?

No, he decided. For his delusion was unworthy. No matter how many times he'd say he had learned to love Shiho, it wouldn't just ring true. For as it happened, in all appearance , it was more like he loved himself more for what he would become whenever they were together. Maybe, that was true too.

Shinichi showered forever, wanting to obliterate her presence in his— her cigarettes, the whole of his and her sins.

When he crept into the bedroom where Ran was sleeping, he felt an unusual peace descend him. Even in sleep, her countenance was that of worry and tension. Coming up beside her, he stroked her cheek and her face cleared into a soft smile as she snuggled closer to him. He held her, relieved that he still has the power to make her feel secure and warmed by the thought that the affair with Shiho was finally over.

…

_But then, it's not just that easy, isn't it?_

The question pops up in his mind like an unchecked, obnoxious ego, one Shinichi likens to be a horned, and flaming version of him, battling with the one with a halo who tells him that thinking of _her_ is a sin. And yet, the devil is right, something is still missing. Is it really a sin to go for something you want? To even contemplate about escaping for a moment what he calls his normal life? It never is easy, yes but it has to be done. Thoughts can harm after all, he thinks with surrender. It is one that separates us humans from the rest of creatures— the power of imagination. And it is also what makes us more susceptible to wrongdoings, no matter how we try to imagine it to be just right.

_It isn't easy. _It took him a hell lot of adjustments for him to call himself a man, cost him a lot of patience who has finally moved on with one of the memorable parts of anyone's lovelife— if his tragic repertoire of measly two relationships can ever be called such. And yet, as he comes to think of it now, he still can't call himself that after all. For what is he lazing around now, shutting eyes just to see her again, if indeed he has moved forward and left her memories behind. Like a blackhole, those times still drag him back suspended into space time, warping through time but not being able to change or even feel it, very much like the curse of Tantalus. Once you found the formula for an ambrosia, the gods will punish you. He did or so he thinks. Just as Tantalus couldn't reach the fruits above his head and drink from the pond he is drowning in the first place, Shinichi just can never be escape in his own discontent. He is forever drowning, hungry and thirsty, making time as he counts stars when he doesn't have patience for it, knowing that the agony in his situation is that he just can't never escape, like a frog climbing up a well at day and falls back down again at night, forever trapped and yet, just never lucky enough to be dead.

He hopes dearly that she already found herself in a much better settlement than he though. That unlike him, who just gets reminded of her everytime he takes the train, drives a car, solves a case; she has risen from the ashes of their failed commitment and moved on. That to her, time has been a good doctor and not something that only makes the cure even worse to handle. That she had forgotten how she can take away his pain by the touch of her hand and the feel of her lips in his when he couldn't even take away hers. That she has been his cure and that he had failed to be hers.

Funny, how things started with a cure— the cure to the APTX, then the cure to migraines succeeding it and then the cure to satisfy the monstrosity driving these headaches who knew better than he that he needs attraction, only to find out that there never is one. The cure he should realize, is just a s elusive as the mythical elixir of life. Its implications even more destructive than the punishments about going against the natural stream of time. For they are battling against nature, against Love himself. Now that the cursed migraines has come back to fill her absence, Shinichi knows without much thinking that the cure that was never much of a cure, is out of a question, if indeed he wants to move on.

A murder case, a solution, a dramatic denouncement and a police report filed for the day: and Kudo Shinichi is tired. By four o'clock in the afternoon, he felt a good night sleep will not hurt much, if only he can be tired enough not to be dreaming of her. He calls Ran. "Are you coming home tonight?" he hears the brittle sound of her voice as she asks him. It's an old dance. "Yes." When he says that, he always means it.

He should have gotten home straight but something in him made him drive by the elementary school, where Edogawa Conan and Haibara Ai shared so many a laugh, many a problem, many a banter. The triumvirate both of them are fond of so much have just recently graduated so he really has no reason of going there. They are off now to the Middle School, bringing with them their own flourishing detective club. Despite himself, Shinichi—once Conan—feels a smile creep on his face. What then could have happened if they did not take the antidote and grow up all over again instead? A cure wouldn't have been needed.

Shinichi, startled with his own radical thought, rubs his eyes, trying to tame the beast inside him. It is over. Nothing should change that.

He looks up then and his attention is arrested by a girl, probably a high school girl who he immediately recognized as the girl Mitsuhiko once thought to somewhat resemble Haibara Ai. Amemiya Shoko, who they found later to be confined in Doctor Araide's clinic. He never thought the same about the resemblance but as the girl makes her way out of the gates with a boy trailing beside her, Shinichi realizes why his eyes caught her.

Her blouse, is the same with what Shiho have worn when they first started their affair, during the fateful party.

Before he can stop himself, he slides out of the car, marches to her and seizes her hand. She gasps and looks up at him in fear, only to clear up slightly as if recognizing him. Shinichi is confused for a moment and then is annoyed by the fleeting thought, that he is indeed more famous than he believes he is.

"K-Kudo-san?"

He lets go of her and mouths a thought-you-are-someone-else apology, aware that a "Why do you have the same blouse as my ex-girlfriend?" is as ridiculous as any excuse a stalker will ever tell his quarry. But he is no different is he? Why else will he approach her but his own lunacy as he once again loses his self control that is very much akin to the loss of composure of a stalker. "I'm sorry." He tells her and without any further word, drives away.

In a way, when he sees the cottage in Hiroyuki street as he remembers , he is surprised— that it is not just something he dreamed up months ago, out of his desire for oblivion, for an escape, for nothingness. Like a man in a dream, he knocks on the door and she opens it. She seems as unsurprised to see him as he is to see her.

He goes in without a word and she shuts the door behind him.

Then Kudo Shinichi thinks, there might never be much of a cure after all.

(TBC)


	7. Epilogue: Time, like a doctor

Title: The Cure

Author: holmesfreak1412

Fandom: Detective Conan/Case Closed

Pairing: Kudo Shinichi & Miyano Shiho

Genre: Angst, Drama

Rating: T (for minor sexual imagery)

Language: English

Summary: She's the cure… The cure that makes it worse

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Detective Conan Franchise. Rights for the characters and the plot that connected them in the first place all belong to Aoyama Gosho. This story, however is mine. And so are the cameo original characters that will appear in here.

The Idea of the APAH capsule belongs to FS and her awesome fanfics "Ghost at Twilight" and "Encounter in Venice".

Author's Note: Oh right, this took rather long but here it is: the epilogue! You just tell me okay if indeed I did exaggerate when I told everyone I don't expect a happy ending to come. I have an inkling that I may have. (And it seemed to have scared a lot of readers, without reading the even more controversial installments)

My health is rather awful these days so any unusual idiosyncrasies, please blame on an ailing mind. The same can be said to misleading rambles in the more introspective parts.

…

…

**The Cure**

**..**

**Epilogue**

…

…

**Five Years Later: **

**Time, like a doctor** had washed its hands upon everyone, especially to those who have it but never did have anything worthwhile for it to be used. Kudo Shinichi is one, having his youth still, his accomplishments the talk of the country; and yet no longer the man who he deemed he used to be— the man to be regarded in this highly fastidious world as someone successful. Miyano Shiho did tell him once— that in life there are two things that are the hardest to contemplate: age and failure. The former had been understandable at the time, an in-joke he had always thought to be amusingly absurd and yet must have been true, in the literal sense. Shiho, as her name had told him once has always been derisive of decrepitude, perhaps one of the reasons she is not as apprehensive as he in their shrinking. But considering it now, he realizes there is more to it than just dreaming Peter Pan's elusive fantasy. Like every brilliant scientist before her, Shiho is afraid that her youth will be wasted, that indeed once she got old enough, she would come to realize that something was missing, just as a physicist is forever relishing the thought that they couldn't make a good enough breakthrough in the days that they could still be glorified.

In some way, that brings us to the latter, as though they are one and the same which they are. Perfection after all is the consequence of eternity which simply is not anything likely to be awarded to one, to anything in its lifetime. One will never be able to see apes turn into man or the rest of these other cliches come true. And so failure becomes a reminder of death itself.

One might say, that Kudo Shinichi should not be a man to be worried of these things, clichéd as they are. Those people, in fact are just ignorant of his inner devils, only seeing what he prefers to show them. Only the white outlines he has applied in his blackwash as he endeavored to keep secrets rather than tell lies. His superiors marvel that after being always the last man out in the office after the past three years, he never took as much as a dayoff. Not knowing any better, they mistake it for devotion. But the real thing is, he is only concerned of the fact that once he permits himself to relax too far, he will come to realize just how cold his bed is now; how amidst all these layers of pseudo success, he is and maybe always will be a failure.

For he knows well that love lost is a special kind. It serves as a reminder that one just doesn't have all the time in the world, that everything cherished can disappear in only a single flick. It makes one think that in all the depredations of age, the disappointments of a promising youth, the heartaches of a shattered love life, death is the only escape from time. That death, after all might be a greater doctor than time itself, who refused to make things any different even as it flows. Always, in his universe, it is eternally tea-time, dire and unchanging. And like the Mad Hatter himself, getting off with one's head might be the only escape. It might be the only cure.

And yet, he knows, that is but a wrong way to think.

For it is, of all things a blind way to face life. Imagine, Shiho told him once that life is like a mirror, the apt simile he thought to be something as shrewd and simple as whatever one does to it is exactly what it will do back to you. Smiles and it smiles, the sort of thing. And he took that seriously. People always tells him to look forward, to the future and he invariably did just that. He tried to forget the past and shape his future, all the time always looking forward. In the end, it didn't do him much good as it should have. By trying hard to forget one, he lost himself and another, who he just took for granted in a way that he never realized how important she is in his life. From this, he can identify with the complaint of how things seemingly turn against one without explanation. Just as one is coming grips with everything that he thinks he wants, everything is slipping away instead. Through this failure, the world started passing him by, just as he thought he is in simultaneous motion with it.

The future after all, is but a reflection of the present. One spends time facing a mirror with the future behind their backs, backing away every step while looking in one's own reflection, which is the present. Yes, one might argue that turning around to get a straightforward direct look is a lot more practical. Those who did, without even realizing it, would have lost the key to the perspective they once had, which were themselves. It will be the one important thing their future will never find. In Shinichi's case, by trying to forget the past and shaping his future, he no longer regards what he himself needs. One should learn from their mistakes by looking at what has been wrong in the past and yet they seldom ever did. So things just never change. In this, he fails to see what it is to be learned: that all along his cure is not to be depended on time's healing powers, to the promise of the future. It is something that is in the present and all those years obstinately staring ahead had eluded him that fact.

Tonight, long since he left his office, Shinichi quits his job, something he thought he should have done long before and in a sudden whim, begins to imagine himself as being just plain Kudo Shinichi, perhaps writer of detective stories, sometime-consultant to the Force but never full time. Like his father before him who he venerates so much as the most successful man he has ever known, able to keep things within his grasp and never letting them slip away, by being the man he should be not only to his wife but to himself. He watches the sun set in Beika, always _his_ favorite time of the day and suddenly comes to think whether he can ever love the night the same way. Whether it can be warm enough to deceive oneself that one is better off sleeping alone.

Arriving home and telling the empty house just that out of force of habit, he sees his weekly mail piled neatly on the basket, sorted without a doubt by his housekeeper who came and went during the days. He browses it quickly, noting with dismay that it is but the usual correspondence— credit card notices, bank statements and nothing that resembles a letter from Ran who he last heard to have been teaching Karate in Osaka. Discouraged for some reason as if not used to its regularity, he almost walks away when a pink envelope that is laid neatly on the side catches his eye. He surmises his housekeeper has separated it from the rest for his benefit. Taking it with delicate fingers to peruse it, he notes that it seems to enclose a card of some kind. There is nothing written in the outside save his own home number, postal code and a series of random routing number in a neat script below. Shinichi remembers Idesaki's promise to send him a postcard, something the disbarred lawyer boasted to certainly awaken the Sherlockian in him. The guy is in London now, have wed well with a beautiful medieval scholar and is currently trying to make a degree in archaelogy, something Shinichi found to wholly unusual but befitting his friend just fine. Idesaki, to his credit never did ask him about the thing with Shiho, as always foreseeing that he himself is not really ready to articulate it. Instead the guy just always advised him to moved on. It was a benevolent advice and yet Shinichi knows now, that while he certainly can, he shouldn't.

So Kudo Shinichi, before opening it, takes it into the lamplight for further study. It is not that he is the paranoid nut that he always had been. He only wonders whether this much of a small action as opening it prematurely might render him more of a failure again. Like the butterfly effect, he cannot afford any storm in Japan just because a beautiful insect is fluttering its wings in the other side of the world.

Then the routing-code gets on his attention: 39-041-232839

39. The country code for Italy.

041. The area code for Venice.

The last, a phone number.

It is from none other than, Miyano Shiho.

Hands poised and fingers sweating, Shinichi runs once again into a long untreaded memory lane. How, after meeting Amemiya Shouko, the beast is once again unleashed. How in all his desperation, he had been willing to risk everything including the sliver of respect she still had for him, if only to make sure he wouldn't lose her completely, only to find out that as time had taken its own toll with her, the prospect was to be inevitable. That day, he had erected a wall between them and she was then, willing to keep it standing. In a way, to his still treacherous relief, it wasn't much as for his inability to be the man he should be or him being no better than a junkie. It was the fact that someone, much better had just come to reclaim her.

It was funny, he had thought, how once again he was the butt for another science joke. The irony of life: catastrophe happening all over again just as he was about to take comfort to the consolation that lightning wouldn't strike in the same place more than once. But it struck again, as it would do to everything that was also made from heaven. Through there, when Shiho was living the normal life she fully deserved, she thought she had lost the man she loved so much that she, even during those days with him, who only aimed to make her his, clung to the memories of the elusive man. He was her solace, when the present was too unbearable and the future uncertain. Always the man, Shinichi had failed to be.

In his case, the thunder of the gods did strike him the other way, as a house higher than most was always susceptible to those modes of destruction. Once again, through a biochemical fluke he was aggravating a woman's pain. Maybe unconsciously, deliberately too. And it was always the same— two women he deemed he loved. One, who he loved so much not to disappoint. The other, with whom he wanted to share the pain, to fill the void inside her, only to realize later that she never wanted it filled.

Nobody could replace this man in her life. As Shinichi was introduced to him, someone, in retrospect now, he should have known to be actually really _him_, he wondered how this guy who started everything through his clumsiness, could be any different to him. What trait, what attribute had set this man apart when at the back of his mind, they obviously came with similar reasons. It was to get her back right? When the withdrawal gets too much...

Stop, he told himself, as he always did. Because for all the guilty reasons he should enumerate to have brought his steps here— nature, the damn drug etcetera— Kudo Shinichi, still wanted to believe he loved her despite knowing it to be futile once told to his audience of two, it being reduced to the flawed enzymes of the body as if Cupid himself was born out of a chemical reaction. He didn't believe that. He just couldn't. And yet there was the remaining truth that in all appearance, he loved himself more. Wasn't it just that? Like she had loved her man more than him when she tried to resurrect him through their relationship.

All along, it wasn't about what the damn drug could do. Like the usual stimulant, it was more like what he had had _believed_ it could do. Amazing what the powers of suggestion could do. When just one wouldn't think there was a cure, there just wouldn't be any. The reverse of the placebo effect, to everything the great Hippocrates told us. There never was a cure to those who failed to acknowledged there was any. The basic fact of life and he had failed to see it all along.

From that point of clarity as he sat before the man, Shinichi wondered if anything would have been different had the implications had not been imagined the way he did. For after all, it was what separates us humans in the tree of evolution, from the animals that we think were inferiro. Imagination alone. It is what makes us powerful. It is also what makes us the most destructive, especially to ourselves. Shinichi then turned to ask himself: was the determination that there was a cure what made this man different from him? Did he use the powers of imagination in the rightest way possible and after such, he had come back to reclaim her back again, after two years of unexplained absence? With some agony, Shinichi tried in vain to deny what he knew then.

He was too late.

Like leaving Eden once one realized they were there.

But then as Kudo Shinichi started to talk to the man himself who always was the omnipresent third party between him and Shiho, he realized with relief that this might be after all, what real love could be.

For in the geometry of love, everything was always a triangle— its topology all a tessellation of those three sided polygons suspended above everyone's heads. The reality that for every Shinichi and Ran, there would be Shiho and that for every Shinichi and Shiho, there would always and forever be this man. And APAH. For eternity until with one segment's surrender, the triangle would finally collapse, in its place leaving two points in space, separated by the smallest possible distance. Maybe this time, like a pair of beautiful binary stars, finally reunited.

But still, far from the certainty of this reasoning, he still asked the man before him.

_Do you love her?_

The stranger's answer was delivered without hesitation, a soft sad reminiscent smile on his face as he told him:

_Yes. _Firm and steadfast

And yet the man seemed rather relieved he was the only one around to hear the admission.

Shinichi could well understand why. There always was something in that woman that prevented one from saying those three words straight to her. He himself couldn't remember in all this nebulosity whether he had confessed at any time to her in the past. Although, thinking of it now, anything uttered in such frenzy might never be considered much of a confession. Even if she had heard it. Not at all.

And then in a dawning epiphany, Shinichi realized he may never have the chance to tell her so.

_Yes,_ the stranger repeats. And deprecatingly, Shinichi thought he may never have any chance against that.

And yet he still couldn't stop himself from asking:

_If you love her so much, why did you leave her?_

The look that had crossed the stranger's face, which he couldn't begin to describe, told him there was nothing more shameful than what he had just said. For it was an imperative. For a cure. A way to separate himself from her. And yet Shinichi still couldn't see the logic behind it. _Why? When he, Kudo Shinichi just couldn't, why could this man?_

And most importantly, why after all this time, he had come back?

The stranger told him.

And Shinichi realized, there indeed were several reasons for this man to be different.

For he had learned his lesson, long before it could be too late.

There always was a cure to those who looked for it.

It was the case for this man.

Until now, Shiho hadn't known but apparently at the same day there commenced a row over his ensuing guilt she thought to be immaterial and his departure afterwards as to his retaliation, she made it seem like this couldn't be helped. And that they might as well die this way. Deciding it should not be so, the stranger acted against what the weaker side of him was crying out for him to do which was to just agree with her,. He flew forth overseas at his older brother's courtesy and in there with the help of another friend, had undergone a very risky, high-odds operation.

He had deemed to replace his APAH-infected blood with entirely another blood group and marrows, aiming in theory to obliterate every trace of it from his bloodstream which he remarked was even more potent in its poison than any leukemic cell could ever be. The point was for him to come out a new man.

He almost died.

Confronted by the dangers, the stranger recalled thinking of it as a win-win situation. He was an optimist. At least, if he died, by his own device she would come to know he had tried.

And he did live, then wouldn't everything be better?

_Not for me, _Shinichi thought. And yet again, he knew it was the wrong thing to say.

The stranger, obviously noticing his misgiving, clarified his point once again. "It would be better, don't you think?"

Shinichi could hear the double-edged note in it.

Coming upon an understanding he said: "Yes of course. I think it's for the better."

And it was and still is.

He had refused the stranger's offer to introduce him to the doctor who had given him the operation, telling him only in the vaguest manner possible that he thought he could have a cure to be devised on his own.

For trust in one's physician, as the great Hippocrates said, is much more of a curative than any herb itself.

And Kudo Shnichi believed, that he could be his own doctor. Not time. Not fate. And certainly not Shiho who he knew could get hers should he just be the man, finally.

And so, a week later, the couple left for Venice, where as her boyfriend had acknowledged, they had to take on where they had left off. The only consolation gotten from that was that they had parted with considerable enough amiability. He and Shiho. The stranger too whose name he didn't think to be any important to divulge, even to himself. Although sometimes, he does wonder in all the cold nights that have passed, why didn't he put as much of a fight?

But then deep inside, he has always known why.

After which, Shinichi has begun to fall from Ran's life altogether. Entirely. Shortly afterward, without prior consent, she filed a divorce which settled in court without any grievance from either parties. The alimony payments agreed upon without any preamble. To this day, Shinichi thinks it Ran's own way of softening the blow for herself, the fact that she was the one who broke things off not him. After all, this only would tell that the problem lay on his end of things, not hers. She called him five years ago at work for the last time. Her voice brought back an ache he never expected. She told him he should never expect he would ever hear from her again until he figured out for himself where they stood. Finally she left her number and told him to call when things were different.

It was the second love lost.

To hear Ran said it herself somehow shunned Shinichi's sense of possibility, more than how the migraines that was never eradicated could ever do to him, the coals and diamonds of his future stripped by his own ape-like disposition. From there, he should have realized what was the cure all along, for him just to believe. Trust. And yet he hadn't. So things were never different. To him at least. Until now.

Opening the envelope from Venice, from Shiho, he can immediately guess what it is.

A wedding invitation.

Yes, his attendance is requested. To a ceremony she had once missed when he had conducted such years ago.

It barely takes a moment for Shinichi to process what he is being told. She trusts him enough to invite him after all those years. She, of all people believes in him.

This time, things being nothing different doesn't sound as bad as it has been. No matter how time had weather its passage between them, she always is and will be his partner and best friend.

Looking at the picture of the smiling couple he had helped to reconcile— her design to make him see what he is missing, Shinichi turns to wonder how she have known, even when he didn't. He has to act as her man did, carving his future with the past past and the present in every step of the way. After all, Scrooge would never have been the man he had turned to be had it not for all the three spirits.

He fishes for the telephone and calls Ran, a number he never though he have committed to memory and never imagined he can form with his fingers.

And a voice he had never thought he'd hear again.

_Hey. It's me Mouri Ran. I'm not available for the moment so please do leave a message. I'll get back to you as soon as I can_

Then a beep.

Kudo Shinichi finally can understand how it felt.

"Ran." he says, into the hum of silence on the other line, feeling his own hands trembling. . "It's me Shinichi."

The hush in the other end is haunting. It might have overwhelmed him, had he not known what to say.

"I'm leaving Japan tomorrow. I'd be gone for a while. I don't know how long. I'm not sure..."

Shinichi imagines Shiho on the other side of the world, fluttering like the butterfly in Peking when there is a snowstorm in America, except that the hurricane he is in now, is that of a manifestation of joyful confetti. She is probably sitting up in bed now, rising from the arms of the man she fully deserved. For the first time he felt they are really like binary stars. Here they are, far away from each other and yet so close as they have ever been for years. He wonders whether they someday, she can attend his second wedding too.

"When I get back from Venice." he tells Ran before the machine can cut him off. "I want to see you."

Then he places the phone back to its cradle. There will be things to pack, papers to arrange but those are the least of his worries for now. For in Italy, the sun is rising.

(The End)

Thanks everyone for patronizing. The dare by the way is for me to make a fic that I myself can't imagine the next part. I don't know about you but I believe I can't (because I have another perverted thought in mind. FS had guessed it!)

For self evaluation, I guess this is not the kind of fanfic a seventeen-year old should be writing about. I may stay away of it in the future

Lots of songs inspired me while writing this particularly Girls' Generation (Baby Steps), SHINee (Obsession and Get It), Super Junior (Angel), Ailee (Heaven), Taylor Swift (Eyes Open and I Know You Were Trouble), One Direction (More than This), Rihanna (Unfaithful and Take A Bow), Taeyang (Wedding Dress) and JYJ (In Heaven). The content of such provoked my rather disarranged way of thinking about life. And yes, I'm promoting Kpop.

No words will be enough into thanking FS who stayed all the way in the making and whose fics started this in the first place. Worry not, I'll stay away from this kind of homages the next time.

And to my readers, I guess this will be enough: see you around. Although it will really be nice should you speak out now that it's finished.

Another thing, to my little obnoxious sister, you win and you shall have your SHINee album (It's Dream Girl!) in no time. (Just gimme time to order it okay? I don't have my own credit card you know that)

_Signing out:_

_holmesfreak1412_


End file.
